Remembrance Day
by untouchablerave
Summary: Hermione & George share a moment after Fred's death.


It was a cold winter day at the Burrow and it seemed even colder than usual for George, now that he no longer had Fred. It had been weeks now since Fred had been killed, but the dark clouds overhead were not budging. The back of his throat constantly ached and his eyes were sunken into his skull. He rarely spoke and when he did it was one worded answers in reply to his mother's questions.

He had forgotten how to function. He had only just started regularly washing himself again and looking after himself. Most of the time he just sat in the longue, watching the flames of the fire lick the chimney. His body throbbed with grief and he felt like he was on edge most of the time.

Ron and Hermione had cancelled their honeymoon; they weren't really in the mood to be newlyweds right now. Charlie had come over from Romania to stay for a while and Bill made daily visits with Fleur from Shell Cottage. Ginny was living at Grimmuald Place with Harry, she found it hard coming back to the family home but she knew she had to for the sake of her family. Molly and Arthur were lost for words, and no one really blamed them.

The burrow used to be a warm and cosy house and now it just stood there like a cardboard box, empty. The possessors walking around like zombies, not able to connect with each other. George went to bed after dinner and slept till noon, took long baths and could usually be found outside on the bench at the bottom of the garden when the whether wasn't frosty.

Molly, Hermione and Ron looked out of the kitchen onto the garden where he was sitting.

"I just don't know what to do with him anymore," Molly muttered quietly towards the pair.

"I don't think anyone does," Hermione agreed with her, leaning on the counter infront of her.

"Well I'm not going out there," Ron's voice quavered as he pulled in his bottom lip, "I can't… wouldn't know…" he trailed off and laid his head on Hermione's shoulder for comfort.

She stroked his hair and kissed his forehead in a motherly fashion.

"I don't know what to say anymore, I've tried everything," Molly's bottom lip wobbled.

"Shall I try?" Hermione offered, pulling on her thick knitted cardigan that Molly knitted her for Christmas last year. It's nice and warm but Hermione had only just admitted to Ron that she only wears it at the Burrow.

Hermione opened up the heavy wooden back door and took a step outside into the crunching frosted grass, and closed the door behind her. She walked over to the bench where George sat on the far left of it; she placed herself on the far right.

She said nothing, but she took out a small square packet.

George looked out of the corner of his eye at her; he had not seen such a packet before.

She took out a long thin white cylinder of something and put the orange tip between her lips. She rummaged in her pocket again and bought out a see-through green device that lit up when she flicked it. It looked very similar to Ron's put-outer, George thought.

Soon the end of the thin cylinder was a blaze and the end lit up with burning embers as Hermione drew back.

"W – What's that?" George croaked, shuffling a little to look at her.

"A cigarette," Hermione exhaled, "It's a Muggle thing," she grinned.

"Oh," George said simply, and turned back to the view of the cliff edge at the bottom of the Burrow. The end of the garden looked over the little village of Ottery St. Catchpole where the Weasley's live.

"Would you like to try?" Hermione asked, holding it out between her fingers, "Actually…" she took it away from him, "It's bad for you…" she sucked on the end again.

"Why do you do it?" George asked, "If it's bad for you?"

"Ron doesn't like me doing it," Hermione confessed, "So I limit myself to one and day. But it calms me down and it stops the hurt,"

"The hurt?"

"I lost a twin too, not quite the same way," Hermione's eyes glistened like ice, "When she found out I was a witch she disowned me, "As soon as she came of age she left home, didn't want to share a house with me anymore,"

"That's horrible,"

"Yeah it is, and she'll never accept my way of life, ever. I don't know if she's alive or dead, my parents won't talk to me about her. Her name was Jane; I changed my middle name after her in a bid to get her to talk to me again, show her how much I cared,"

"But it didn't work," George finished

"Nope, she's still out there somewhere," Hermione exhaled a mouthful of smoke, "I want to get in touch but apparently she wont. Don't take this the wrong way but sometimes I think it's easier for you, you know you're brother loved you and didn't want to leave you. But my sister, she chose to leave me and she wont ever want to see me for who I am, I think I punish myself for who I am by destroying my body with cigarettes,"

"I see where you're coming from," George looked back out onto the view, "What was your middle name before?" he asked

"Vivienne," Hermione turned to him and smiled

"Cool,"

"But the world doesn't stop turning, at some point we have to get up and dust ourselves off, right?"

"Right," George smiled.

Hermione stubbed her cigarette out and pulled out a can of scented body spray and sprayed herself.

"I'm going inside," she held out a hand to haul him up, "Wanna come?"

"Maybe later," he muttered, smiling up at her. She smiled back and walked towards the house.

She opened the door to the Burrow and stepped inside, shutting it quickly behind her as though not to let the heat out.

"Well?" Molly questioned, looking hopeful

"Give him time," Hermione smiled weakly, taking off her jacket and placing it on a peg by the door.

Ron and his mother smiled at each other.


End file.
